Mistakes Shouldn't Define Who You Are
by SweetWritingIsMyLife
Summary: Sometimes, people make mistakes. Those mistakes shouldn't define them. Even if you ruin another person's life, you should still have a chance to redeem yourself, right? Or maybe not. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Full summary: Sometimes, people make mistakes. Those mistakes shouldn't define them. Even if you ruin another person's life, you should still have a chance to redeem yourself, right? Or maybe not.**

**Katsuki makes mistakes and has to learn the hard lesson of making things right and accepting consequences.**  
**Aizawa just wants to sleep. He isn't looking to raise children.**  
**Unfortunately for him, there's no rest for the weary teacher when they have students like Katsuki Bakugou and Izuku MIdoriya.**

**A/N: ****Story is written for a writing challenge with Kayla Wood and camel_circuit. Rules are as follows:**

**1\. It must be for the My Hero Academia fandom**  
**2\. It will be 10 chapters long and chapters will be posted on the first Tuesday of every month, no word restrictions will be applied**  
**3\. We start writing the actual chapters on February first, and the first chapter must be posted the first Tuesday of March, meaning the last chapter will be posted the first Tuesday of January 2021**  
**4\. It must have at least one scene with a dadzawa moment, and it must serve a purpose in the bigger picture, aka it can't just be a fluff moment**

_"Just pray you'll be born with a quirk in your next life, and take a swan dive off the roof of the building."_

Bakugou is staring at the clock, fingers itching to explode something. He's angry, which isn't unusual, but today is worse than most days.

Stupid Deku. Stupid UA. Stupid quirks. Stupid- Stupid _himself._

As much as he hates to admit it, he's angry at himself. Not quirks, or UA, or even Deku. He's such an idiot. Bullying Izuku? Calling him a quirkless, worthless Deku? That's stuff he does all the time. At this point, it's almost second nature for him to look at the boy, and sneer, and tell him he'll never be worth anything. That he should just give up his dream of being a hero. _Quirkless Dekus _can't be heroes. They get desk jobs, or they collect trash, or they make soba noodles and serve the real heroes. It's easy to look down on Izuku and tell him to go away, or that he doesn't need his help. To push him into the dirt and light up some small scale explosions in his face. It's easy, because he does it all the time, and Deku always just gets up, brushes himself off, and goes about his day eyes shining with determination for the bright future he no doubt envisions for himself.

Telling him to take a _swan dive _off the roof? Suicide baiting? That was too far. He wasn't thinking, and the words just sort of came out, and now it's the next day, and Bakugou is at school, and Deku isn't, and he texted him but got no response, and all he can think about is _what if Izuku actually took the bait and jumped? _

He goes to Deku's house as soon as school gets out, banging on the door with perhaps a little more force than necessary. Inko answers the door, and she doesn't _look _like her heart has been broken into a million pieces, so maybe he got lucky. Maybe Deku is just sick or something.

"Katsuki!" She exclaims in surprise. "It's been so long since you've been over! How are you?"

"I'm fine," he responds. "I came to bring De-Izuku his homework."

"Oh!" Her smile grows wider. "He'll be so happy. You can head up to his room to give it to him." He would rather just hand it to her and get the f**k out of there because he really can't bear the idea of facing Deku and feeling even guiltier about yesterday. He came to make sure Deku was alive, and didn't commit suicide, and now he knows the other teen is fine, so he's ready to go. At least he is, until Inko continues talking, quieter than before.

"Between you and me," she murmurs, "I'm worried about him. He said he's not feeling well today, but he doesn't have a fever or anything. He said his stomach is upset, and he hasn't eaten anything since lunch yesterday. He's tried to hide it, but I've heard him crying off and on. I think something happened to him yesterday." Katsuki clenches his jaw and makes up his mind to own up to his mistake. If he's going to be a pro hero he'll have to start doing that.

"I'll uh, go up there now, then, I guess," he clears his throat awkwardly. She steps aside to let him enter, and his gaze flits around the room. The house looks just like he remembers from when he and Dek-Izuku were kids. There are pictures of Izuku and his mom. And of course, the family portrait. The only picture with Mr. Midoriya. At least, there should be… Now that he's taking a closer look, he notices that picture is missing. In its place, is a picture of Izuku with the pro-hero All Might. They're both smiling. All Might, his signature "I am here" smile, and Izuku his signature "I am currently fanboying and I just might have a stroke" smile. A twinge of longing twists inside of him, and to his surprise, it's not jealousy he's feeling, but rather he finds himself longing for simpler times where he and Izuku were just friends. Times when they played at being heroes, before either of them knew Izuku would be quirkless; before his mom began to instill in him the family values of independence and that anything less than perfection was failure. Not that Bakugou doesn't love his mom. Of course he loves her. What kind of hero, or son for that matter, hates their mom? Sure, he gets into fights with her all the time, much to his father's disappointment, and sometimes embarrassment, but he never means half the things he says to her anyway. And if he genuinely ticks her off sometimes, and she smacks him upside the head, well, he probably deserves it for one reason or another. She really does love him, even though she has a peculiar way of showing it.

Bakugou shakes himself free of his thoughts, and walks the familiar journey to Izuku's room. At the closed door, he stops again. Normally, he would have just walked right in, but now… He knocks, a tad softer than normal.

"J-just a second, mom," Izuku responds. Bakugou hears rustling, and then his door opens. It is slammed shut in milliseconds, then opened again, just a crack.

"K-Kacchan?"

"My mom told me to bring you your homework from today," Bakugou claims, because no way did he come to Deku's house of his own volition. "So can I come in?" he adds after an awkward pause.

"O-oh, yeah, sorry," Deku opens the door, stepping aside to allow passage into his room. Katsuki doesn't know why he doesn't just drop the work off and get out of there, but somehow he can't stop himself. Once he's in Deku's room, he observes the teen closely. Stupid Deku has been crying. His eyes are red-rimmed, tear stains have made their way down his cheeks, and he's still sniffling. Katsuki unzips his backpack, pulling out books and papers.

"We analyzed poetry in Modern Lit," Bakugou fills the silence. "It was pretty boring s**t not gonna lie. The poems were okay, but those dimwits didn't know how to analyze for s**t."

"K-Kacchan?" Deku speaks cautiously.

"What, nerd?" the bite is so natural, he doesn't even realize he's snapped until he sees Deku flinch, ever so slightly. He glances down at the ground with a feeling of remorse for just a moment.

"S-sorry," he swallows. "I just wanted to let you know, that I've been thinking, and I think you're right. There's no way someone like me could be a hero."Deku glanced down with a sad smile and longing in his eyes. "I-I think I'm going to transfer to the support course." That's all Bakugou has ever wanted to hear, so why does hearing it feel like a solid punch to his gut?

"The f**k?"

"That's what you want, isn't it? You, and Mr. Aizawa, and-and my mom? You all want me to just give up on my dream. To just hide in the background. I u-understand why. I'm really just a s-s-stupid D-Deku. You heard Mr. Aizawa yesterday. The person who came in last place was supposed to have been expelled," The corners of Izuku's mouth turn downwards. "Even with all my training, even with all the work I put in, I still wasn't good enough.I came in last after everything, and while Mr. Aizawa didn't fail me yesterday, the truth is, he could have, and probably should have."

"If that's what you really think, then you really are a stupid deku," Bakugo shook his head. "Tch, f***ing typical."

"W-what?"

"You don't look sick to me," Bakugo ignored his question. "Do your d*** homework nerd. You better be in class tomorrow." Not waiting for an answer, he turned and walked out of the door, leaving a confused, and slightly conflicted Izuku in his wake. Mrs. Midoriya offered to let him stay for dinner, but he turned her down, saying that his mom expected him home for dinner. Which, while not completely true, was not completely a lie, either. She did expect him home tonight. Whether he ate dinner or not, she could care less. Not that she could cook for s**t. Mrs. Midoriya made much tastier food, known rather well by those she had fed for her katsudon.

Sometimes Bakugo wished his mom could cook. He usually ate pretty good, having had to make his own food for years, but on nights when he was busy, or tired, it would be nice to have good food prepared for him. Most nights like that he ended up settling for instant ramen, spicing it up with an egg and some sriracha hot sauce. Sometimes, his mom would come home with Maruchan ramen, and he would need extra sriracha to mask the ramen's inferiority to its competition, Nissin. Just because his mom didn't know how to cook, didn't mean that she didn't love her family, though. She just showed it in different ways.

Glancing at his phone to check the time, Katsuki groaned. He was going to be late getting home. His mom was going to be p***ed. He glared back in the direction of the Midoriyas' home. Stupid f***ing Deku.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: First of all, I wanted to let you know that I have decided to stop censoring my swearing. I had a reader suggest I do so on one of my other stories. If that bothers you, let me know, as I'm not opposed to changing back. **

**Warnings: Swearing; a child is hit by their parent; mentions of suicide**

**Thanks to Kayla Wood and camelcircuit for editing and inspiring my story! Be sure and check out their stories for our challenge**

"Katsuki? Is that you?" He had barely crossed the threshold into his home before the old hag was yelling.

"Who else would it be, hag?" he made his displeasure clear.

"And where have you been, brat?" she appeared almost out of nowhere to grab his ear and pull him further into the house. He was released when they reached the living room, and reached up to rub his ear irritatedly.

"I don't have to tell you! I do what I want!" With the two of them, there was never a warm-up. Fights were fought loudly from the start, with both yelling from the get-go.

"I'm your mother! If I ask you a question, I expect an answer. Now, where were you? Huh?"

"Up your ass." Bakugou let a smirk rest on his face. His mother quickly removed it with a sharp slap.

"I have just about had it with you, Katsuki!" she screamed, inches away from his face. "If you don't make yourself scarce in the next few seconds, I'm not responsible for anything I might do!"

"Tch," Katsuki pushed past her to storm up the stairs to his room. Once he had slammed closed his door, he sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't weak. He clenched his fists as pressure built up behind his eyelids. This was stupid. He was on his way to becoming the number one hero, dammit. He wasn't supposed to be this weak.

All-Might never cries.

A lone spiteful tear dripped from his eyelashes and fell to the comforter beneath him. Growling in frustration, he lashed out and punched the wall by his bed, feeling a satisfying _pop_ from one of his knuckles. He threw his fist again, hoping for relief. It wasn't enough, and soon he was punching the wall rapidly, using both fists. He didn't stop until he was out of breath, his knuckles bruised and bleeding.

He was still upset. He was still crying like a wuss. At least now he would have a reasonable explanation for the bruise that would no doubt be very visible on his cheek tomorrow. No one would question him. The bruise on his cheek paired with his injured fists? Just the screw-up delinquent kid with anger issues getting into fights again.

Katsuki didn't leave his room for the rest of the night. He was in no mood to have to deal with his mother again, and on top of that, he had no reason to. He had a few granola bars stashed in his room. One of those would suffice as dinner. It's not as though this hasn't happened before. Katsuki isn't hiding from Mitsuki. He's not afraid of her or anything. It's just that sometimes it's easier to just leave her alone than to deal with her bullshit.

He finished his homework early and then extracted from its careful hiding place between his mattresses, a leather-bound book. The book had been a gift, one that nobody knew about except him, and the giver. Years ago, when he and Deku had just been starting to drift apart, the nerd had given him a journal. He had noticed that they were growing apart, or more appropriately that Katsuki was driving him away, and had wanted to give him something to, as he put it, commemorate their friendship or something equally as shitty. He had hung on to it ever since, keeping it hidden partly because people would wonder where he got it, and partly because if people found out that Katsuki Bakugou owned a journal, they would probably laugh.

He had never written in it, though he had come pretty close a number of times. It always ended with him, pencil in hand, hovering over the first page, then slamming the book closed and shoving it back into its hiding spot. Today, he opened it and started to write for the first time.

_I guess writing in one of these things is supposed to be good for you. It's supposed to give you a healthy place to let out all of your feelings and then you feel better or something. I don't know. I mean, if I'm being honest, I don't even really know what I'm feeling. I act like I'm angry all the time, but in reality, I just don't understand the emotions that are constantly changing inside of me. All I know is that I want to be the number one hero. I want it more than I've wanted anything else in my life. I would do anything to reach my goal, but somehow I just keep messing up. I hurt people around me. I mean, I told Deku to go kill himself. What kind of a hero does that make me? Heros are supposed to save lives, not take them prematurely. I'm such an idiot. Honestly, the world would probably be a better place if I just followed my own advice. I could do it. Take the leap, rid the world of at least one of its nuisances. It would probably be better for everyone else that way. I'm too selfish for that though. I'm gonna keep living, if nothing else to spite my mom, that insufferable bitch._

Bakugou closed the journal and absentmindedly brushed his fingers along the cover, reliving the day it was given to him.

"K-Kacchan, wait!" As usual, Bakugou kept walking. Deku caught up despite this. As usual. "W-wait, please. I have something for you!" A rectangular object was thrust into his hands. It was covered in newspaper and looked as though it had been hastily wrapped at the last minute. Katsuki stopped walking and stared at it for a moment.

"It's a gift," Izuku explained unnecessarily. "I got it for you. To commemorate our relationship. O-our friendship, of course. N-not like- Uh I didn't mean like a-a _relationship. _Y'know like b-boyfriends or something. J-just we've been friends for so long and I wanted to give you something in honor of that. Do you like it? Well, I guess you haven't even opened it yet so you probably can't really answer that question. I guess maybe I'm wondering if you like the idea of it. I mean, I don't even know if you're the kind of person who likes gifts or whatever. I don't know. Maybe I should have asked you before I-"

Bakugou tuned out his mumbling and tore open the paper from his gift. The journal fell into his hands, and he opened it. Inside the front cover was Izuku's scrawling handwriting.

_To my best friend, Kacchan. You can use this journal to write down your thoughts and feelings. I know sometimes you feel a lot of things, and I know how hard it is for you to talk to people about it, so I thought maybe you could talk to a journal instead._

He never thanked Izuku for the gift.

Bakugou was pulled from his thoughts when he heard heavy footsteps outside his door. He quickly stashed his journal back in its safe place. It didn't matter much, because the footsteps died down as whoever it was continued down the hallway, not even hesitating at his doorway. He laid back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling listlessly. It was only 4:30, and he had no homework.

It was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Soooooo, I missed a month of posting, but as a compromise, you all get two chapters this month instead of one.**

**Warnings: Swearing, mentions of suicide**

Katsuki wakes to the blaring of his alarm, and the angry shout of his mother to, "Turn off that damn alarm!" He slams his hand down on the off button of his alarm irritatedly, rising from bed and stretching. It's all a part of his routine, which he thrives off of. He's dressed and downstairs eating an apple in just over two minutes. It doesn't take much longer to finish the apple, and then he's stretching outside with his headphones in, _Hero_ by Skillet blaring from them.

He stretches for five minutes and then he runs. The crisp fall air fills his lungs and clears out his brain, lifting the haze of sleep from his consciousness. All around him are trees covered in brilliant shades of reds, yellows, and oranges. He doesn't pay much attention to them, too focused on the road ahead of him. The scenery to the side, passes by in a blur, much like his classmates' attempts to distract him. If they want to waste their schooling on frivolous games, that's their choice. As for him, he plans to stay focused. Pure determination and focus are the only way he will become number one. He's been sure to discourage anyone from getting too close to him by acting aggressive and unapproachable. That's worked well for the most part, but there are a couple of exceptions.

Kaminari is, well, not always the sharpest tool in the shed. At least he never acts like it. He's actually quite intelligent, despite his quirk's weakness. He's too kind-hearted and enthusiastic for his own good and decided after one interaction that he and Bakugou are friends. Bakugou has begrudgingly allowed some non-aggressive interactions to transpire between them. That doesn't mean they're friends, of course.

Kirishima is another story altogether. He seems determined to win Katsuki over, or something. He stole his phone on the first day of class, punched his number in, and basically said 'we're friends now'. Since then, Bakugou has been invited to play video games at his house a total of three times. Has he gone? Not yet, but he's about to accept one of these times if nothing else just to shut the red-haired freak up. Not that Katsuki doesn't think that playing some Smash Bros. with Kirishima would be fun, but he can't let himself get distracted. Number one heroes don't have time for video games. Neither should number one heroes-in-training.

By the time he's back at home, his father is up, getting ready for work.

"Good morning, Katsuki," Masaru greets him.

"Sup," Katsuki tosses back carelessly. He's on a tight schedule, his mornings are always planned out to the minute. He showers, eats breakfast, then rides the train to school.

Wouldn't you know it would be just his luck that Deku was riding the same train that morning?

He sits next to him. Not because he wants to be near him, but he'd rather sit with him than some stranger. Besides, he needs to clarify something from the day before.

"Hey, Deku!"

"O-oh. H-hey Kacchan," Izuku stammers.

"Aizawa _clearly _thinks you have potential to become a hero," Katsuki colors his words with just the right amount of contempt. It isn't like he cares about Izuku. He just- okay, he cares a little bit. But Deku doesn't need to know that.

"Y-you think so?" Deku's nervous stuttering is grating, as usual.

"Last year, he expelled his entire class for lack of potential. Him saying he's gonna expel somebody isn't an empty threat," Bakugou has talked to Izuku more in the past twenty-four hours that he probably had in the past year. Honestly, it's exhausting. "If he didn't expel you, there's obviously a reason for it."

"M-maybe he's not allowed to e-expel people on the first d-day."

"That's a ridiculous idea, and you know it," Bakugou shakes his head irritatedly.

"O-or m-maybe he feels like he can't expel me," Izuku ponders.

"Why? Because you seem like the innocent protagonist of some cliche anime show where a small child gains some great super power, and now it's suddenly up to him to save the world?"

"I w-was thinking because I-I'm new to my quirk, a-and he doesn't want to seem like he's being discriminatory against someone who's been quirkless most of their life."

"Mr. Aizawa doesn't seem like the type of person who cares what people think," Bakugou rolls his eyes.

"I guess not," Izuku still sounds unsure, but at this point Katsuki will take it. Besides, he still has one more important thing to say.

"And another thing, nerd," he clears his throat, (for emphasis, not because his voice cracks with emotion or anything). "You better not be selfish enough to actually jump off a building. You can't do that to your mom. She's too fragile to handle that."

"It's okay, Kacchan," Izuku smiles sadly. "I know how much my mom loves me. There have only been a couple of times that I've ever even thought about killing myself, but my mom is really observant, and she found me a therapist. It really helped." Bakugou doesn't respond, too far buried in his thoughts to even attempt to form sentences. Would his mom notice if his suicidal thoughts ever got too strong? If she did, would she care enough to find him professional help? Or would she just tell him to grow up, to stop being so weak? He shakes his head derisively. She wouldn't care. At least if he died she'd have one less loser disappointment in her life.

The bus pulls up to UA, and Bakugou exits swiftly, only to be ambushed by a certain spiky-haired loudmouth.

"Hey! Bakubro!" Kirishima immediately grips him in a bone-crushing hug. He pushes his friend off irritatedly.

"Get off me, loser," he demands, pretending he doesn't feel a small flash of warmth in his chest at having someone (who wasn't Deku) be excited to see him. They walk together to the classroom, because they're already next to each other, they might as well. As he walks past his teacher, to find his desk, he can feel the man staring at him. He's disconcerted, but doesn't question it. Honestly, Mr. Aizawa is weird and does weird things. That's nothing for him to be concerned about.

"Bakugou, I'd like to speak with you, please," Aizawa says once class has been dismissed.

"Yeah?" he stands with a slouched posture at his teacher's desk. Aizawa waits for the classroom to empty before turning to speak to him.

"Why are you here?"

"Huh? You fuckin' asked me to," Bakugou looks incredulous

"No, why are you _here_? At UA." Aizawa clarifies.

"Because I want to be the best," _Duh._ Bakugou makes sure that his face conveys his irritation clearly.

"Don't look at me like my question was obvious. I ask all of my students that question at one time or another. Especially when I'm contemplating their expulsion"

"What?!"

"You heard me." Aizawa is deadpan as always.

"Did I do something wrong?" _Does he know about yesterday?_

"You tell me." Katsuki sees right through this. He knows he doesn't have to admit to anything, his mom plays this game all the time. She tells him he's in trouble, and then wants him to rat himself out. He was done playing that game as soon as he was old enough to understand the rules.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"I think you do." _Persistent, isn't he?_

"Look, I don't have time for this shit, just tell me what you want from me or let me go."

"Do you have somewhere important to be?"

"Yeah, home. If I miss the train and I'm late, my mom's gonna be pissed." Not a lie. Will she care if his mom is pissed off? Not particularly.

"And how do you think she would feel if you came home with an expulsion letter?" Aizawa expects the boy to become defensive. He is not, however, expecting the brief flash of fear that crosses his explosive student's eyes.

"Fine. Let's talk," Bakugou crosses his arms. "But I'm not gonna sit here admitting to everything I've ever done, so we're not getting very far unless you tell me what this is about."

"Fine. I'll be blunt." Aizawa concedes."I'm sure you are aware of UA's zero tolerance policy in regards to bullying."

Bakugou rolls his eyes, "Yeah."

"And I'm sure you're also aware that telling someone to quote 'take a swan dive off the roof of a building' qualifies as bullying." Hearing his words repeated back to him verbally is even worse than them bouncing around in his head like they have all day. He's quiet, and tries to tell himself that the tightness building in his chest has no relation to the emotion he's feeling.

Bakugou feels small, having Aizawa look at him like that (like he's a villain), but he tries to cover it by lowering his brow.

"Yeah."

"I'm not sure if you are aware of this, but according to UA policies, I have every right to expel you right now," Bakugou will never admit to it, but he's starting to feel nervous as he realizes just where the conversation is heading. "As a matter of fact, at the start of our conversation, I had already planned to suspend you pending a full investigation and probable expulsion. The way you spoke to Midoriya yesterday, was unacceptable, and in no way was it representative of how a hero should behave." A heavy silence falls in the nearly empty classroom. Katsuki tries to maintain eye contact with his homeroom teacher, but shame forces his eyes to the floor as his head bows. The normally quick to defend himself teen can think of nothing to say. His breath catches a bit when he thinks of how his mother will react to the news. His father will be disappointed, but his mother, will be _pissed_ which is actually the understatement of the year, because let's be honest this is Mitsuki Bakugou we're talking about, and she once forced him to stand for an hour underneath a cold shower because he accidentally burned a hole in his sheets while he was sleeping. Aizawa finally speaks again.

"Alright, here's what we're going to do," he decides. "First you're going to call your parents, and I'm going to explain the situation to them. Then, you'll go home, and you'll take tomorrow off. You will be suspended. That should give you some time to think over how you behaved. I would also like you to take some time during your suspension to write an apology letter to Midoriya. I will use tomorrow as a chance to speak with Midoriya. I will come over after school tomorrow and speak with you and your parents, and then we'll decide where to go from there. Does that all make sense to you?"

"Yes, sir,"

"Good."

The phone rings three times, and Bakugou has the vain hope that maybe it will continue to ring, and that his mom will ignore the call. She picks up anyway.

"What do you want, Katsuki?" he resists the urge to pull the phone away from his ear at her loud tone.

"Stop yelling, hag," he growls. "My teacher wants to talk to you."

"What did you do this time?" Quick to assume, as always, that he's done something wrong.

"Just talk to my teacher," he thrusts the phone at Aizawa, not daring to look at his face to see his disapproval of Bakugou's treatment of his mother.

"Is this Bakugou Mitsuki?" Aizawa speaks into the phone.

"Who the hell else do you think he talks to like that? Now what did the brat do?"

Aizawa pans his eye towards Katsuki, unconsciously looking over the boy, his eyes stopping at his knuckles. He falters at the yellow and purple discoloration.

It could just be from a fight, he reasons. Aizawa knew that the hero course could be rough. But he also knows that any teacher worth their salt, would have sent him to Recovery Girl.

"I'm calling to inform you that Bakugou is to be suspended for his actions against a fellow student, and in accordance with our zero tolerace bullying policy, will be pulled out of class for the next day. I will be making a visit to your home tomorrow afternoon to further discuss any actions we will take."

Aizawa can hear her breathing on the other side of the line, but she's quiet and when her voice chimes back in it's missing her passion from just a minute ago.

"Was it Izuku?" she asks.

Aizawa glances back to Bakugou, watching him itch at just standing there without knowing what she was saying. For whatever reason, Aizawa is struggling with distinguishing his abrasiveness from the small flits of fear that fly across his face. The boy probably got that from All Might.

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"Katsuki has never been suspended before," she defends.

"Yes, I believe that to be a failure of his past teachers."

She pauses, "He's always been hotheaded."

"Ma'am, there is a difference between 'hotheaded' and bullying, a difference that has clearly been blurred for him in the past."

"Do you think you can fix him?" she asks.

Aizawa itches at the word'fix', and he wonders where the loud and aggressive woman from before had gone.

"You can't ruin his record," she continues, a little bit of the heat in her voice coming back, "without fixing him. You can't tear him down without promising to make him strong."

"I promise," Aizawa intones.

He can hear her smirk on the other side of the line. Aizawa has the idea that she seems used to getting what she wants, through brute force or other means. "Good. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. Now put the brat back on." He hands the phone back to Katsuki, who looks less than excited to be speaking with his mom again.

"You will take the next train home," her voice is no longer a shout, but a deadly calm like heavy clouds before a rainstorm. "When you get home, we will discuss your behavior, _in depth._" Katsuki doesn't reply, hanging up the phone and turning away to pick up his bag. He shoulders the pack, and starts walking towards the door.

"Bakugou," Aizawa calls after him. He pauses but doesn't turn. "You know you can talk to me if you ever need anything, right?"

"Tch," Bakugou scoffs. "I don't need anyone's help." He doesn't. Need help that is. He has everything perfectly under control. It's not like he's some weakling like Deku who just lets people walk all over him. It's not bullying if he dishes it back some too, right?

_Right?_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Well, here's June's chapter, a little late, but before June is over a least haha. I'm going to try to get July's chapter out on time, but we'll see...**

**Warnings: A child is slapped, some manipulation, but it's mostly unintentional.**

When Katsuki gets home, both of his parents are seated on the couch. His father looks disappointed, with a steadying hand on his mother who looks absolutely furious.

"Sit," she hisses. He drops his bag on the ground and slouches onto the couch across from them. "Oh, come on, sit up. Act like you have at least some pride in yourself." He slouches even further, smirking when her cheeks redden. "You don't want to test me right now, Katsuki," she's clenching and unclenching her fist. "I am very upset."

"Please, Katsuki, do as she asks," Masaru requests quietly. "Don't antagonize her." Katsuki straightens his back and gives his father a slightly remorseful look. His father is soft-hearted and Katsuki knows that he and his mother's violence makes him uncomfortable. Honestly, Katsuki doesn't really know how his parents ever found each other compatible. Some kind of 'opposites attract' bull, he assumes.

"Was it Izuku?" Mitsuki wonders.

"Why does it matter?" He refuses to do this right now.

"Because, I want to know," Mitsuki has the tone of voice that says 'I shouldn't have to explain myself to you.'

"Look, I was just putting some extra in their place. I don't know why you're so upset about it." The word 'extra' seems to get caught in his mouth. He feels like he's stuttering just like that damn- like Izuku. For some reason, the word feels wrong, which makes no sense because he's never cared about how his words make people feel. And Izuku's not even here to feel a goddamn thing, so it shouldn't matter what he calls him.

But then why does the name 'Deku' feel like a pit in his throat -and the word 'extra' is hard to force out of his mouth. It shouldn't matter, and before all of this, it hadn't. A tiny voice whispers in the back of his mind that it should have mattered all along. If it didn't, maybe there was something wrong with him. He's jerked from his thoughts when Mitsuki speaks up again.

"Maybe because whatever you did was bad enough that it got your teacher's attention, and got you suspended!"

"Look, it isn't like I did anything I haven't done before!" _Except suicide bait somebody, but that's beside the point._

"It must have been pretty bad if you were suspended."

"I don't want to talk about this right now. I'll just have to go over it all again tomorrow when my teacher's here." He stands to make his way to his room, but his progress is halted by an iron grip on his wrist.

"Just where do you think you're going?" Mitsuki isn't yelling, and for some reason, Katsuki wishes she was. He tries to pull away, only for the grip to tighten. There's going to be a bruise there in a little while, but he takes comfort in knowing that it will get lost in the piles of bruises on his knuckles..

"Get your hand off me, hag!" he shouts, glaring at her. Her eyes gaze into his icily.

"Maybe, I didn't make it clear before when I said that I was _very upset, _so let's try this again."

" Just where do you think you're going, brat?" she repeats.

"I'm going to my room," Katsuki tries to reign in his anger. "I don't want to talk about this without my teacher." He's barely known Mr. Aizawa, but for some reason, he feels like this situation would be much safer with him in the room. He supposes that as a pro hero, he's probably good at diffusing tense situations. The silence roars in his ears as his mother fumes.

Masaru places a gentle hand on his wife's arm."Please, Mitsu, calm down," he tries vainly to placate her fury. She shakes him off, and raises her arm. One back-handed strike later, and Katsuki is seeing stars. Her grip loosens a bit, and he uses the moment to his advantage, pulling away and stomping to his room. He slams his door for emphasis, and flops onto his bed, trying to ignore the fact that he can feel water running down his face. He's supposed to be a hero, goddamnit. He wonders if it will always feel like this.

From down the hall, he can hear his mother shouting. Every once and awhile her voice will pause long enough for his father to murmur something. Eventually, she goes silent, and he hears her trudging feet make their way to her room. She, too, slams the door.

After a few minutes, a gentle knock sounds on Katsuki's door. It's opened a crack, and Masaru's head pokes in.

"May I come in, Katsuki?" he asks softly.

"Sure," he sits facing the wall, making a point not to face his father. The man comes in holding an ice pack.

"Here, for your cheek," he sounds apologetic. This isn't the first time that Katsuki wishes that he were as furious as him instead. It takes his skin a moment to adjust to the cold, but as soon as it does, Katsuki sighs. His father sits across from him on the side of his bed, and they stay like this in silence for a few minutes, neither quite sure what to say until Masaru speaks up again.

"Katsuki, I wish you and your mother wouldn't fight so often," he doesn't make eye contact with his son, looking instead to the wall past him. "I know it's natural that you and her find conflict with each other, it's just that it hurts me to see you two argue all the time."

"You think I like it?"

"If you don't like it, then why do you do it so much?"

"Because if I don't stand up for myself, no one else will." At this, Masaru's head bows in shame.

"Katsuki, I- I'm sorry. I haven't been a good father to you," he admits.

"Don't," Bakugou's voice catches. "Don't you dare apologize to me." Katsuki doesn't know why it's so hard to be angry at his father like he is everyone else. I mean, sure, he hates how weak the man is, and often finds himself wondering why his father doesn't do more to stand up for him against his mother. But then he thinks back and remembers the happy memories they share. Trips to the park, mochi, his father holding his hand when he got his first shot at the doctors office, even though his mother said that a three-year-old should be brave enough to do it themselves.

"I've made it this far without your pity. I don't need it now." _You've been as good of a father as you could have been. You're the only person in this shitty world that has ever truly cared about me, so don't sell yourself short. You noticed when I started trying to cook more, and even though you didn't know the first thing about a kitchen, you made sure that I had books that I could learn from and every kitchen tool I could ever want. Mom used to just lecture me about overusing my quirk when my hands would get red and blistered. You're the one that bought me burn cream and bandages_.

"But your mother-"

"Is critical. Her mistakes are her own, old man." There's a pause, and it's as if the entire room is holding its breath. For a moment, Katsuki is sure that his father won't be able to think of a response.

"Your mother knows you are strong-willed," Masaru admits. "But I don't understand why she sees that as only a weakness. If you would only apply that strength to more positive ventures, just think of how far you could go." There's a beat of silence as Katsuki mulls over his father's words.

"I'm not saying you're perfect," he finally speaks again. "I'm just saying that you've done better than the hag." Katsuki removes the ice from his cheek, which now feels significantly better, and holds it out to his father.

"Thanks," the '_for everything'_ is left unsaid..

"I'll leave you be now," Masaru responds. "If you need anything, I'll be in my office." He doesn't quite hug his son, but places his hand on the side of Katsuki's face for a moment. It's so different for him to feel a soft hand rather than a harsh slap. If Masaru notices the tears shimmering in his son's eyes at the unusual gesture of affection, he chooses not to comment.


End file.
